Truth
by juliasejanus
Summary: Inspired by MilesAboveFantasy's coming out story Tooth and Nail Post SCORPIA Rising. Sabina does not take Alex's confession about his conflicted feelings for Yassen well. Coming out. Running away. Betrayal.
1. Chapter 1

Everything changed over one confession to Sabina, like a switch being flipped they went from friends to mortal enemies. Coming out was not meant to be like this. She was meant to be his sister, yet she would not sit in the same room as 'HIM'. Alex was not her foster brother, not her friend and the big freeze between the former friends was affecting the entire family. Not helped by the fact, he would not, could not confess the cause of their estrangement to Edward and Liz, not when Sabina quite rightly thought he was a monster. He had heard her call him a filthy pervert to her mum, followed by a long wail of tears.

After two days avoiding everyone at home, the fifteen year old went to see if his therapist could fit him in, before Edward threw him out and sent him back to London. Sitting in the small reception area, avoiding eye contact with the receptionist. He had come here twice a week since he landed in San Francisco in July. Now in late August, he was about to say goodbye.

The thirty something with a severe dark bob and classic clothes smiled and queried "Two minutes, give me the condensed version, we can talk fully on Friday." Met with silence, his last lifeline was spoken softly, "What's the story? You look stressed, Lex?"

"Its goodbye, Rachel. So the no secrets rule has not gone down well with ma famille. I've been open, transparent, I told the truth and I'm now an anathema. I told you about Yassen. Dangerous, beautiful, complete antihero. You know I fancied him, so what. I was just exploring my sexuality. I told Sabina and she thinks I'm a pervert. Like I deserve a long, slow and painful death. Won't even look at me or sit in the same room. Her parents are taking her side. I am the one causing the problem. I'm the reject. Last one in first one out are the rules." Alex face went from defiant and self righteous to despondent. "Edward phoned London last night. So, I don't think I'll be back to continue our conversations on my shitty life. You've been good for me. Helped me sort myself out. Five weeks to get to the point I could move forward. Goodbye, so long, adieu. Its been a blast."

His time was up. The next guy was waiting for his hour to start. The teenager turned around and left. He had a small rucksack with a change of generic clothes, just over 200 bucks, his passport and no idea what to do or where to go. Only not London, MI6 could go fuck themselves. He went over to the parked car he'd seen, not locked and spare keys in the glove box. Once out of town he'd change the ID plates and in Sacramento he'd start hitching east. He wondered if he's keep on going until he hit the Atlantic or find home or a job on the way.

The teenage car thief, fully concentrating on his potential grand theft auto, was about to open the door on his chosen getaway vehicle. The beige small family car was parked down a little used side street, no windows overlooking it, no CCTV, no passing traffic, unlocked, keys already retrieved from the glove compartment before the teenager had visited his therapist. Alex was then accutely aware he was not alone, three soft steps then the click as the safety on the gun was released. A setup, he was about to die, unafraid he turned slowly to face his assassin.

The dark haired guy in his late twenties exclaimed "You're a fucking kid!"

"Sixteen in February, old enough to die." Alex stated with no emotion. He then pointed at his head and quipped "Last time the guy just missed my heart, so go for the head."

The assassin lowered his gun. "Well, I've kinda fucked this up. Makin' conversation with my mark. Brisco will be laughing in his grave at me. My names Nate, you now owe me 50 grand."

Alex did not relax, so that was the price on his head. He'd never make it to Sacramento. "I have 200 bucks to my name. How the hell can I pay you back?"

"We'll work something out. Get in the car. I'll tell you where to drive."

…..

Every time Edward's computer booted up, his start screen was the Missing Persons flyer for Alex, who had skipped out because Sabina had treated him like a leper for being gay. She had only confessed her unforgivable treatment after he left. Liz had been convinced their foster placement had tried to rape their daughter because of their daughter's antics. Not confess he had feelings for his abductor, a man dead for a year. Basic psychology could explain why a confused teenager would feel empathy for a man who refused to kill his mentor's son. There had been the enforced stripping in France, Yassen playing sexual games and humiliation, then the death bed confession from the assassin; interpreted not as family love but romantic. Alex had been played expertly by a master manipulator.

No leads in two and a half years, Alex had disappeared from the face of the earth. No hits on his passport, his savings account or any contact with school friends. Even the CIA and the FBI had drawn a blank. Last seen when Alex went to see Rachel to say goodbye. She had been the last person to see him. There was a word to add to that sentence, alive. Odds stated Alex; alienated, depressed and alone, had killed himself. The journalist knew all three of them were equally to blame, their rejection had been unconscionable, considering all in the house knew how fragile the fifteen year old had been. Liz had taken Sabina's side 100 percent and badgered her husband into sending Alex back to London. No amount of saying sorry or the hours of volunteer work would bring Alex back.

The clock on his menubar was all zeros. It was Sunday 13th February 2005, Alex's eighteenth birthday. Edward had packing to finish. Liz and Sabina had already moved back to England and a single man did not need a four bedroomed house.

Guilt, arguments and recriminations over failing the boy who had needed a home, family and stability. He still loved his wife, but they needed a breather. Married twenty one years, he did not hold much hope that this trial separation would work.


	2. Chapter 2

Alex remained silent as he was directed to Oakland and Nate instructed him to park up on Brush Street. The gun hidden from view. His new partner seemed to have taken his compliance as proof they were working together. The pair then walked to a Chinese Fast Food Place and his 'owner' ordered Chicken Chow Mien, Seaseme chicken, house fried rice, egg rolls, sweet and sour pork and two Dr. Peppers.

The sat down with their drinks and Nate started to explain his situation. "Two absolute low life's, ya know, ex-SCORPIA offered me the easy job of killing you, told me where you be, promised me the 50K for my troubles. Only the two wise guys have a bounty on them, 200K if I ice them. I figure they sent me to see what protection you had. Only you had none. They were expecting the full smash, so sending in expendable me. So, family history. My sister brought me up. We was doing OK, cause she did the books for the the local whorehouse/crack den. Beggars can't be choosers. SCORPIA were paid to do a complete takedown of the existing mob set up to let the Russians in. My sis was iced. So, these SCORPIA guys want you dead. Wanted me dead ten years ago, only I met up with Brisco and he kept me safe, teaching me what I needed to know. I kill people for money, but guys like them, thats the real deal. They told me you iced someone high up in SCORPIA. So, kid it works like this you tell me how to take those guys out you pay off your debt to me and we're both happy. I do the killing, I need to pay them back for Suzi. If you are the real deal, then you teach me how to keep ahead of the game and we both move on. You run where ever you want to go, with a nice nest egg."

Alex pondered this, a case of his enemy's enemy was a friend. In a soft low voice, the teenager confessed his beef with anyone SCORPIA. "They killed my sister too. You can kill them all. I won't stop you, I'm happy to help. If you want to be top of the game, well you are in for pain mister. I can fashion you into a killing machine, but its to going to be far from easy."

"Never said it would be a walk in the park. To our new partnership. What do I call ya?"

So, Nate wanted to move from casual killer to assassin. Alex had the means to achieve this thugs goals. To fashion brutality into the grace and skill of Yassen. He would be a handler rather than asset in a new game of revenge. Hunter not hunted. Player not pawn.

Alex ate his bland chow mien, and thought on burying his past. He remembered the dialogue from the film he watched three days ago. Where Sean Connery had played a defecting Russian submarine captain ' _When Cortez arrived in the New World he burned his ships_ ', a metaphor for no going back. "Call me Cortez."

…

Dan Stephens was a senior agent with the FBI, ten years working up from field agent to lead a team. Before that he had been CIA, then briefly with Covert Operations. He had known about SCORPIA and their formidable reputation, from logistics, money laundering, training, torture to ruthless, deadly and coldly efficient assassinations. While at the CIA he crossed paths with their former operatives occasionally, but mostly just their victims.

Dan liked patterns and the case in San Diego had sparked his interest. A bodyguard to a retired boxer had been found hanged, only the guy had been expertly tortured. A pattern was emerging of the assassination of known operatives of the long defunct terrorist group. Operatives who had predominately stayed freelance, some working for the mob, some in legitimate security. There were similarities to a cold case from 2002, two dead fixers in San Francisco, case on file as a drug deal gone wrong, assailants unknown. His dead bodyguard had been a former team member of those dead operatives, all three wanted by the Egyptian Authorities for terrorism, kidnapping, assault, attempted murder and murder.

He had put a trace through Interpol for the same MO and got a series of killings from Mexico in 2004, Columbia, Guetamala, Venuzeula and Brasil in 2005, Mexico and Florida in 2006, now San Diego in 2007. Someone, a serial killer, was wiping out the former SCORPIA network in the Americas. The bodyguard, Hernando Salas had done a decent job of covering his past up. Only a full background check had shown him with links to SCORPIA operations between 1999 and 2002, with an open warrant from the Egyptian Authorities. Maybe it was time for Dan to call up Langley and see if they were aware of this pattern of homicides.

Two weeks to retirement and this brewing storm arrived on Joe Byrnes desk. He put on his jacket and went to liaise with the Federal Agent, a former colleague, who had noted this blow back. Byrne had a good idea who was behind these very professional hits, two ghosts with the aliases of Nate and Cortez. Both had enough tradecraft to be former agents or SCORPIA operatives themselves. If they had form before 2003, they had had different names, aliases or worked far from America. The first four killings bore the hallmarks of the serial killer Nathaniel Brisco; only he died in the summer of 2002. His coven of 'chosen' dead beside him, by their own hands. Five kidnap victims taken as teenagers and trained to be pet killers. Case closed there, but had there been another kid/killer? The later assassinations were all completely professional, like Cossack had risen from the grave. Or the killer had gotten himself a trainer and upped his game.

…

Dan got more coffee, only this needed a stronger brew than on offer here; only he knew Byrne had taken the pledge. "Did you liaise with SFPD over the Brisco link?"

"No, this is a pet project. I have chronic insomnia, I work on cold cases at home. Off the record, I'm looking for clues to the disappearance of a friend's nephew. August 2003, he vanished into thin air after seeing his therapist. Bastards in San Francisco Police Department would not put any manpower on the case of a depressed, grieving fifteen year old disappearing. Alex would not kill himself. I had requested the surveillance of the two SCORPIA guys, only budgetary constraints do not mix well with mere hunches. They end up dead at the same timeframe as the kid disappeared. I do not believe in consequences. The killer either got to the guys after they snatched and killed Alex, which is the most likely scenario. Or Alex joined forces with him. If he was a copycat of Brisco, he would be a Svengali to Alex." Byrne left out that both operative had hefty prices on their heads, money paid out, suggesting it had been a hit.

The Special Agent then asked "the kids name and date of birth?"

The CIA Assistant Director was silent for a moment "Alexander John Rider, 13th February 1987. You will hit a wall on any official searches, MI6 wiped his records when he'd been missing for over three years. Born on London. Parents Helen Beckett and John Rider deceased May 6th 1987. Uncle was a good friend, MI6 Special Operations Operative, died February 27th 2001, Ian Rider's records were wiped after he died on the job, company policy. If you want files, Edward Pleasure has a full copy for Alex and some for Ian and John. He works freelance for the Post, lives in Georgetown. Works nights volunteering at the homeless shelter near the university. My money is on Nate crossing paths with Alex, but the kid was complete a Dudley Doright. Not a killer, not a psycho."

Dan shook his head, "We both know that you can turn anyone into a killer. Training, motivation and psychological programming. Is Alex this Cortez?"

"Maybe…Probably. I hope I'm wrong, because that kid deserved a good life, a quiet life" Byrne hoped and prayed Alex had not becoming the weapon of revenge his uncle and Blunt had trained him to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Alex's plan had worked perfectly. He'd done a show and tell. Three hours on stakeout and the ex-spy knew the two grunts had been hired muscle not Malagosto graduates. He'd snuck in and subdued them with ease. The two wise guys were bruised but alive, trussed up with cable ties. Nate came in and his gun was in his hand ready for two clean head shots when Alex, in a soft calm voice ordered "Stop!"

Nate looked puzzled, but he put his piece away as ordered.

Alex smiled "Lessons begin now. We need to squeeze them dry. We need their network, their contacts, money, logistics, weapons and who they work for. We take over their work and make money, then remove their friends. So, torture 101. We don't need to keep them in one piece, but alive until we have all the answers. We need to improvise, we have no drugs, no medical equipment and no time. I know the basics so. Think Chinses medicine and chi points. We will use their bodies against them for pain. One pain, one the American method of mock drowning."

"Water boarding?"

"Yeah, nice and easy to learn. Pick which one we're going to drown really slowly. The other watches and vice versa with the Chinese method."

"I thought the water boarding was Chinese?"

"In the 19th century maybe. The scientific physiology of pain developed in the twentieth century is much more effective, just harder to learn. Watch carefully, then you will do as I do, my apprentice." Alex would have started training with PT, but torture got them info on who knew Alex was in San Francisco and who had paid for his assassination, since the Board had supposedly disbanded. Who was his enemy now? His money was on the fact he had outgrown his usefulness and MI6 wanted him out of the way. He could almost laugh at his acute paranoia.

….

Nate was fascinated by this kid, calmly instructing him on how to break a person in as short a period using pain, fear and not mindless violence, like he was used to. The objective was chilling control. He learned to observe reactions and exploit weaknesses, if the method employed was having the desired effect. They had gone through water boarding, pressure points and were beginning on more direct methods, as Alex borrowed the battery from their 'guests' car.

Alex could tell these men were not familiar with finer points of Dr. Three's work. He was finally putting into practice all he had studied ten months ago. Nate was a quick learner and only occasionally queried salient points. His partner would have been a shoe-in for future assassin, he reminded Alex of Cossack in his casual attitude to killing. All it had taken was Blunt pushing him to get him to kill. Alex felt numb, all the hurt and pain at the Pleasure's rejection was irrelevant. By a stroke of luck, he had fallen on his feet again. Nate was offering him a way to disappear and reinvent himself. He stood back and let his partner get the answers they were after.

Alex had fallen asleep in the car, waiting for Nate to join him. He had left the man to finish the job on his own.

The exhausted dark haired killer noted the kid woke as soon as he opened the door. Nate was bone tired, but this was not the time to rest up. "Might be a bit hot around here for a while. Don't worry I cleaned everything up. Head south, San Diego. We'll change over in three or four hours. I need a nap." Brisco had taught him how to clean down a crime scene, even if you wore gloves. The same would happen to this car when they sold it in Mexico. They were going to pick up work across the border and chase down the SCORPIA teams working there as the CIA and FBI had done a good job of clearing house in the States.

His long term plan was dealing with Nevikov in LA, to take him down with expert precision and take over. Nate had a lot to learn before he could tackle that mammoth task. Would Cortez still be by his side? Only time would tell, but his gut told him this kid had picked his path, for better or worse, he was no longer a victim or a survivor.

…..

Nate finished his run and could laugh at his new routines. To think what a lazy bastard he used to be. That all changed when Cortez showed him the true reality of being a top class assassin involved. He had taken Brisco's name as homage to the man who had trained him, just like a stupid revenge plot, becoming the same as his sister's killers to get them. Brisco had a limited skill set, brutal and mostly used to get his kicks from his chosen, but the feral street kid had not been some disaffected pampered pet, like the others, but a kid Brisco had empathised with not destroyed. His chosen heir in a way. His kill count was way over Brisco's now. He returned to the safehouse to see Cortez had returned from surfing. He carefully entered the house and was not surprised when the weapon pounced. Close combat training, left no room for mistakes or any slacking because they were between jobs, Cortez was always alert and always keen to improved skills and incorporated training. After sparring for half an hour, the pair were at an impasse, out of breath and Nate decided to partake of his favourite activity, seducing Cortez.

He gave the hand signal for timeout then shower. "Save water, if you join me."

The blond man with trimmed goatee and brown eyes smiled and quipped "Yeah, I'm such a hippy. Save the planet man. My turn to top, OK?"

Nate loved Cortez when he stopped being a bastard and relaxed "Sure thing, beautiful." Nate said with a cocky grin on his face, making his hard demeanour soften to resemble the handsome boy he had once been.

...

Reading emails later that afternoon, Nate frowned. "Our friend, Carlos the Animal wants us to vet his new contact. Seems he does not trust the Gringo."

Alex rolled over and read the missive as well, "Not again, three DEA agents in a row. He's amazingly gullable. Luckily he uses us to smoke the Pigs out. "

"So, off to Ruiz tomorrow then."


	4. Chapter 4

Truth, was the basis of everything, stripping away the lies, avoidance and denial to learn to be true to oneself. His weeks talking to Rachel, had drummed that philosophy home. The broken teenager had talked through his anger, grief and blame; but only had skirted the fact he'd killed. The basis of healing as he had been lying to himself. He had been open and honest with his foster family, told them about the events at Brookland and Cairo. Then gone one step further and done the normal thing and come out, he had been honest with Sabina, she deserved to know he was not interested in her and preferred being siblings. He had described that moment he knew he was gay, his first meeting with Yassen; an event that led to a mountain of denial on his part after he watched the hot guy with the body of a dancer then kill in cold blood and realised this was the man who had murdered Ian. In retrospect, it had been a great shot though, perfect instinctual firing, just like Hunter had taught him. Sabina's reaction had been petty and childish and completely understandable. Yassen was the bogeyman to her. Alex was her ideal guy, with two to three years maturing, only he was not interested. She was hurt and horrified. Alex's reaction had been to shut up and do a complete threat analysis when the family dynamic shattered. Sabina had done him a favour and showed him the truth. He was not normal, play acting at being a member of the family had been a lie.

His leaving had been best for everyone. Now the killers sent after him were dead, Nate might have thought he cleaned the scene but the clues would show an efficient kill, but not one professional enough for a child who had almost graduated Malagosto. Alex Rider had disappeared and would be assumed dead by the CIA as SCORPIA were involved. The assailants liquidated to keep the trail cold.

Alex smiled at his train of thought as he cooled down from the brutal run. Nate lagging behind after the first half a kilometre. The objective to see how fast, hard and focused you could be over ten kilometres in mixed terrain. Scrub, woodland, mud, water, hill climbs as well as dirt road had been the route today. He had left his filthy shoes and clothes on the step outside. Just in his shorts he went through his routine of tai chi, katas and yoga. He was almost finished his 20 minute routine when he heard his apprentice approach the house, breathing hard, staggering with exhaustion.

Nate had collapsed on the step in the autumn heat. Alex moved to remove his shoes and stripping the man of his filthy workout clothes. "Get up, you need to stretch or you'll cramp. Come on, up. Follow my movements." The Californian was catching on fast to the reality of brutally, intensive workouts needed to achieve the peek of physical fitness so you could run farther, fight longer so your opponents and enemies either died or you lived to fight another day.

As Nate finished his last stretch he vocalised his unhappiness "Fuck that was the worst. How much do I have to improve still? Ten minutes my guess."

"I did the trial run today in 32 minutes 45 seconds. You were 12 minutes behind me. In three weeks you'll be as fit as me." Alex's timetable was striped down to marksmanship, tracking, close combat and fitness training. Nate already had the basics of stealing cars, pickpocketing, housebreaking, guns, knives and tailing a target. His old trainer Brisco and life on the streets had been a hard learning curve for him post thirteen and he'd had thirteen years to refine his skills. Meeting Nate had driven home just how efficient and focused Ian's lessons and chosen pursuits had been for his nephew. Laying the foundations for MI6 to exploit. He had been a child, but Ian had always treated him as an asset. In some ways Nate's sister had loved him more and been a genuine parental figure, in a way neither Ian nor Jack had been. Ash did not even factor as an influence.

Alex needed a shower, so did Nate. "Personal question, was your relationship with Brisco intimate?"

"Yes, quid quo pro, payment for my education. I was an equal not one of his toys. Its hard to explain, but it was my choice. We crossed paths and he could have killed me, but he didn't, said I reminded him of himself. Empathy from a monster." Nate looked at the kid, who was not a kid. More skilled than Brisco at fifteen: cold, efficient and focused in that beautiful not quite adult body. "Shut up about it, I've got blue balls as it is and me and my hand is getting old."

Alex then made his confession "I'm gay. I… I had a thing for a guy who died last year. Like your Brisco he refused to kill me, when he should have."

"Oh." Nate had not expected that. He was a man that saw the confession for the opportunity that it was. "Fuck buddies? We're partners. I miss sex. I switch… so, how about it."

The fifteen year old virgin smiled at the simplicity of this arrangement. "Quid quo pro indeed. I've had no real affection in my life. Touch, sensation and sensuality was never covered in my education to date. lt is just another tool to be mastered. Teach me seduction and what pleasure is, Nate." He was an asset, a spy and now freelance. He was never going to date, co habit or have a normal relationship. Fucking work partners or one night stands was the only option and the thought of anyone he did not have a basis of trust touching him made his skin crawl. He could remain a virgin, but why waste this offer of a relationship between two men broken by life and with a mutial goal of revenge. Brothers in arms, now Spartans or Janissaries. "How about show and tell in the shower, then the bedroom."

Nate's cocky grin spoke volumes "Lucky, I have lube and condoms. Let play time commence. Do you want me to call you Cortez in bed?" The older man had wondered on his partner's adherence to his new alias.

"Yeah, I have not asked your real name, because you aren't that kid. Ditto. Nate and Cortez, partners and soon to be lovers. You can call me anything you want, but not by my real name. Lets keep the past where its meant to be." Alex was more at home here, more comfortable with a fellow killer than he had been with Liz, Edward or Sabina. He missed the acceptance of school in Cairo, but that had been a legend, lies not reality. He was bitterly aware Jack had already planned to leave. He had been bait for MI6 and a toy from Rahzim's and Julius' amusement. Nate had taken on board how much training to be an assassin on par with SCORPIA's graduates cost, a full five years to pay off that debt. Five year partnership in death and destruction. The dead of Julia Rothman had only been the beginning of this journey. He and Nate had to play by the rules of their enemy, revenge to the code of never forgive, never forget.

…

Carlos the animal was indebted to the Cuban and his American friend. Most misinterpreted the dynamic, thinking the younger partner was the junior in skills or just the toy to fuck considering their close relationship. Cortez was the dangerous one, who stood back and let Nate have all the fun, but was the one with the game plan, the understanding of actions and consequences and whose word was law. It had been Cortez who had given Carlos control of the Ruiz cartel. He could stayed there, as boss himself of this nice piece of the action, but had let this minor gang thug become boss, go from poverty to luxury in one move and finally live not exist. He paid for their services, to guarantee the fear of all competitors. The pair were had a formidable reputation for removing their opponents and restructuring with locals, not outsiders. Nate, who killed and tortured with a smile, sarcasm and puns as he brutalised and broke those in his care. Cortez only intervening occasionally with instruction or to show a ruthlessness not expected for one so beautiful or so young. Like shadows they destroyed those who had crossed them. Left others untouched. Carlos did not question them as he had seen them work, killing the Russians and the Americans who had previously taken control.

He sat in his villa with his wife, his most trusted and the journalist asking after Cortez. He had already thought this American would be dead by evening. Better not to ask questions of men like those killers.

Edward knew he was taking a large risk. It had taken months to find this connection, to three dead DEA agents in this minor backwater, the Gang lord paying for top class assassins to remove the moles, so even the Mexican federal police knew not to overstep their mark here. Proven to be the work of Nate and Cortez after he asked the Gang Lord himself, Calos the Animal proud of his powerful friends. The journalist had to know if this Cortez or if his foster son was long dead. In this high stakes game of brutally removing all enemies, he may pay the ultimate price for asking a direct question. He could only hope if Alex was Cortez, their former closeness would ensure his survival. Edward could not guarantee that, for six years Cortez and Nate had effectively wiped SCORPIA off the map in America, taking over their interests from San Paulo to Miami. In Europe, governmentts had removed the taint of SCORPIA in 2002. Others had taken over after the demise of Winston Wu in the Far East. Only in New York and LA did the former associates of SCORPIA still prosper. Edward's projection was their days were numbered, he had contacted the investigative reporters he knew in Miami, had confirmed that every assassin sent after Cortez and Nate had been sent back to their masters a piece at a time.


End file.
